S O L D I E R
by R4D1OxR4G3
Summary: It is the 94th Hunger Games. And when Flynn Mellark finds himself at death's door, he promises to himself, the girl will leave. Hunter Dixon will leave the games, still breathing.


It was only this morning when I'd captured a wild deer with my best friend, in one of his master snares. A plump, thick furred one with hooves that could smash bone. We'd been wandering the woods, harvesting the remaining berries, and listening for game. He'd popped a few random questions, which was unlike him.

"You realise, if we're caught, we'll be punished?" he'd said. I looked at him with my signature scowl.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" I snapped, trying my best to ignore his awaiting answer.

"Am I required to say no?" And then that's when the cry of the deer reached us, and without hesitation we leaped to the scene. I'd automatically snatched an arrow from the quiver slung on my back, and ended it's life with a twang of my bow. That's when I realised that it was one of his snares, which made me scowl harder because he had rights to it. Generously though, he'd split some for our families, leaving the rest for good trade.

I couldn't believe that happened this morning. Only a few hours ago had I'd been hunting with my best friend, and now I stood motionless, in the centre of District 12, in a pen of miserable teenagers. Through the dull crowd, nearer the back, I spotted the spiked dark hair of my younger brother, Fletcher. Only being his second year placed in the reaping, with little chance of being chosen, I still worried for him. But his face lasted, even when we met gaze. The clip-clop sound of heels brought me back to reality, my eyes focus on Effie Trinket, who is fashioning an emerald green wig.

"Let's begin!" she gleams, though nobody gives a smile, or a wave, but just an unwelcoming glower. Standing rigidly on the stage, are the mentors. Katniss Mellark, Peeta Mellark and Haymitch. The girl on fire, the boy with the bread, and the never sober old man. Well, to me he seemed pretty sobered up. "Ladies first, I think!" Effie squeals, but it does not enlighten anyone's mood. It's not her fault, I know, but she's part of the Capitol, so she's nobody's favourite. "May the odds be forever in your favour!" And next, the reaping ball is turning ever so slowly, and I'm holding back a flush of relief when the name is called. "Hunter Dixon!"

I'm frozen for sure, I think, because I'm certain that's me. With shaky legs, I pace the area, preparing to be greeted by the cameras. But I don't make it too far, as I hear Fletcher cry out to me, and my other little sibling, Tamzin, tugging at my dress. She's crying at me, telling me words I cannot process, until my best friend tears her away from me. Tamzin, who is now huddled with my best friend, shouts for Fletcher. He runs up to me, and I embrace him with full effort. His eyes are wet, but I tell him not to cry. Because now he's head of the family. Because I know I will not be coming back. I mount the stage, blocking all emotion from my face, staring ever so questioningly at the cameras, without a single movement. Then, just as I think I'm about to be beaten by the Capitol, the camera switches back to Effie. The breath shoots from my body, leaving me, quietly blinded by what just happened. "Flynn Mellark!" I manage to catch, obviously the name of the boy I will be slaughtering, or the other way round. I realise he's the blonde haired son of the two victors, Katniss and Peeta, who I've only ever spoken to once. He's feisty, but he shares his father's personality. Under his shirt, I can see his rippling muscles, and I know I stand no chance in hand-to-hand combat. He's shocked, I can tell, but he's hidden by the time we shake hands. And then, I'm spaced out, figuring my strategy.

_I will not cry._

_I will be strong._

_I will not trust Flynn._

_I will avoid him at all cost._

Perhaps my plan will workout, but so far, the odds have not been my favour. The speech lasts for what feels like an eternity, until I am dragged into the Justice Building, and left in a room of comforting velvet. First, Fletcher, Tamzin and my mother are visiting. We mostly sit in silence, hanging onto what feels like our last moments. But it is. Once they are instructed to leave, my best friend comes.

"You okay?" he murmurs, as I lock in his strong arms, never wanting to let go. I give a fake laugh.

"Yeah, I'm so happy to be going into the Hunger Games, Dean!" I mimic Effie's strange Capitol accent, hugging him tighter. And once he is gone, I am all alone. I am trapped, like a fox in a snare, and I suddenly feel pity for the deer that had been slain this morning. I fiddle with my thumbs, and chew my dark hair, trying to reduce the anxiety building in me.

With a heart full of reluctance, I follow instructions, leave the building, give no satisfaction to the cameras, enter the train, and refresh my self. The room I am given is expensive, based on the colour purple, with the walls oozing a lavender scent. I take to the shower, tear of my sweaty dress, and begin to play with the buttons. There's about 2 dozen there, but I managed to secure the perfect shower. It really doesn't matter though, because I just curl up in the shower and cry. I find little peace in it, since Katniss discovers me before I'm half done.

She shows no pity.

"Come on, Hunter. We're waiting for you." The blank tone to her voice angers me, so I scream at her to leave. She does without question. I want to be alone, but I will never get the chance. The cameras will be everywhere, so I must be cold. I must be heartless. I must seem strong. Even though, inside I will never be the same. Even if I win.

On the bed, I find a purple vest, and a pink frilly skirt. So, they've decided a strategy for me. Cute, girlie and delicious, which I note to complain about. I stroke a brush through my hair, put on my hunting boots, and retreat from the sickly lavender smell that stinks out my room. I am directed by a girl with short, blonde hair to the dining room, but the atmosphere is damp. We are served all kinds of meals; I then immediately forget my sorrows and munch down hungrily. It's unbelievable what I stuff down, from stews, to noodles, some meat I've never had before! By the end of it, my dinner threatens to make another appearance. I notice even Flynn looks a bit sluggish, even when he's never been hungry. We are then directed into a room to watch all District Reapings, 12 last of all. I am relatively glad for my tough act, since from about 6 to 11 are all on the verge of crying. Flynn points this out.

"It's called acting." I sneer, narrowing my eyes at him. He breaks the gaze first, drowning me in satisfaction.

"No need to be snappy, dear." Haymitch slurs, handing a bottle of liquor in my direction. In disgust, I shun his offer.

"Oh, goody! Now, off to bed kiddies, this is adult talk time." I and Flynn escape Haymitch, but Peeta is not so lucky. I glance back, just as Haymitch sprays alcohol over the victors head. I suppress a sly smile.

I follow Flynn; he seems to have a better idea of this train than I do, until we reach my room. I'm about to go in, when he blocks the way.

"What's with the act?" he asks, cocking his head a little too innocently.

"Act?" I repeat, bringing my hands up to shove when he barrels.

"You do realise, there going to set us up for 'The District 12 star-crossed lover thing again'." He says.

"You think I'm stupid?" I spit at him.

"Am I required to say no?" he smiles. A gale of emotion whacks me full force, making me drop to my knees in agony. Tear's spring in my eyes, finding my self hopeless to struggle against them. Could Dean have said that to me, only just this morning? Yes, he did. I'm sure of it. Flynn catches me, even if I don't notice. We stay like that for a while, in each others arms until I break away. He leans for a kiss, but I refuse, slamming the door on him. I remove the needless outfit from my body, and crawl into bed, with just my underwear to keep warm. Sleep is difficult to catch, but when I do, it is restless. I dream of District 12, burning down at my fingertips.

And all I can do is scream.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what d'you think? <strong>

**ISN'T IT JUST FABBY?**

**See, I could be in the Hunger games movie. Being Katniss. I'd rock at it. I'd be alike 'OOH, GALE YOU SO SEXY!" **

**Anywayzzz, Hunter does love reviews, so the link is waiting. **

**Do it.**

**DO IT.**

**DO NOT DEFY THE BUTTON!**

**Please? **


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